#or you're ignorant and need to stop hurling around words you don't actually understand

[ineffable-gallimaufry]

i really do hate how like every other post about the muskrat is like "what a narcissist hahahaha" and "omg could it not pay for him to grow an EMPATHY braincell?????" and it's like. yeah i hate him too but stop being a fucking asshole to people with npd and aspd and hpd and disorders that can cause one to have low empathy or attention seeking or anything else you're insulting him for.

he's not going see your stuff and feel bad. I HOWEVER am going to see your stuff and say "wow. thanks for saying i am as bad as a horrible vile member of the bourgeoisie who hurts people constantly and sucks so much. i love that."

[taechaos]

Freaky Idea

Pt. 2 of New Idea

pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut

synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.

warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation

word count: 3.8k

When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.

The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.

The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.

The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.

Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it. 

“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.

His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”

"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"

"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least. 

“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself. 

He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.

“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin. 

“The fridge is fucking empty!”

“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”

“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”

The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion. 

He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”

A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily. 

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.

“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing. 

Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.

A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs. 

“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”

You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.

Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?

“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees. 

“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening. 

“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”

He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.

“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”

“Deformed fetuses?”

“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane. 

“Are these real stories?” 

“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.

Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle. 

“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”

He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”

You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare. 

“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”

He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life. 

“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”

“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”

“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”

You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.

“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”

“Police intervention?”

“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”

“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”

“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”

“Ride you?”

“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”

“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention. 

“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.

“No…”

“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”

“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”

“You did it once!”

“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”

You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”

“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”

Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth. 

While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.

“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”

You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?” 

“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”

And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him. 

“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”

It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of? 

Could it be that you’re two of the same?

Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.

It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”

“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”

His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out. 

“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”

“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity. 

“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra. 

“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”

“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”

Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life?  Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”

It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice… 

[captains-simp]

Carol Danvers ~ Two Sides Of The Same Coin

Chapter 2: Owe Me

One

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The explosion on your left was far too close for comfort. The shock sent your body hurling forward a few feet with a distinct ringing in your ears. The high pitched sound was all you could focus on for a few precious moments.

When the dust started to settle and the ringing got slightly quieter, you knew you needed to get up. You were vulnerable. And you were outnumbered.

You could handle something like four or five-to-one, but twenty was a little more than you had been prepared for. The fact that they were a heavily armed twenty made it worse. You were pretty sure you had seen Owen's logo on one of those weapons.

You turned onto your side to try to take in your surroundings better but visibility was still limited. The shoulder you had landed on protested against your movements but you were forced ignore it. There was no way you were going to get out of there without using it again.

You groaned as you finally got yourself onto your knees and pushed off of the ground to stand. You were extremely disorientated and unsteady but you continued to look around until you could make out distant shapes amongst the dust.

You shook your head and raised your hands in closed fists infront of you in hopes of it preparing you even a little.

Just as you managed to narrow your focus onto those infront of you, heavy footsteps were heard from behind.

You spun around to meet whoever was charging towards you only to stumble sideways. Much to your luck, the exact moment you moved to the side the attacker had swing his fist and ended up stumbling forward too from having not landed his punch.

You noticed this just in time and managed to swipe his legs out from under him while maintaining your own balance. The victory, no matter how small, made you feel more confident about the situation. Maybe you would be able to get out of there in one piece.

Just as you had that optimistic thought bullets went whizzing by the side of your head. You were grateful for the attacker's terrible aim as you ducked behind a large cluster of debris.

Your gun had been thrown from your grasp in the blast and to get it back you would have to run a few feet away from the safety of your temporary cover. Bullets continued to smack against the debris, the frequency and the amplitude both increasing to warn you they were getting closer.

It would hard - near impossible - to get your gun, shoot every attacker with the few bullets you had and avoid getting seriously injured, but it was that or wait behind the debris for a bullet to finally find you.

Your eyes locked onto your unharmed gun as you sat up gradually. Now or never.

You sprang up from your position and sprinted towards your weapon as the bullets relentlessly followed you. You swiped it in your hand and instantly aimed your gun towards the attackers.

They may have had bigger, much more intimidating guns, and there may have been a lot more of them, but they had no idea what to do with those guns or how to work coherently together. That made it easier for you to hit each target perfectly without a single bullet even skimming you.

But there was only ten of them down. The blast had disorientated you so much you hadn't noticed them scatter to surround you. Panic rose in your chest when you saw the remaining attackers spaced out in the distance.

That same panic was amplified when a small object came hurtling towards you, the small blinking light was enough for you to figure out what it was.

With all the energy you could muster, you put as much distance between you and the explosive device as your legs could give you. Your hands instinctively covered your head when your feet left the ground and the defeaning boom filled your ears.

You expected to feel bullets rain down on you. You expected everything to go completly dark. You expected the worst. Nothing happened.

You glanced up at the nearest attacker, your ears ringing once again, and saw him staring up at the sky. He was looking around frantically. You couldn't really make out his face, but you could tell he was scared.

You couldn't see anything in the sky either, leading you to wonder what they were all trying to look at. That was very quickly answered when something bright dropped down infront of you.

You were dazed for a brief moment until the familiarity of the bright light hit you.

The energy around Carol was far stronger than it was the last couple of times you had a demonstration. It was flowing over her entire body and although you couldn't see her face because her back was turned to you, the confidence and power she emitted was something you couldn't help but be in awe of.

The attackers backed away slightly however this seemingly wasn't enough for Carol. She shot her photon blasts faster than anyone could comprehend or get away from. Swirls of blue, yellow and red light was fired in every direction and it was over so quickly.

When Carol turned around to face you her powers were fading yet the soft glow around her made her look angelic, you would never admit that to her of course.

"You look like you need some help." The blonde smiled knowingly down to you.

"I'm perfectly fine on my own." You defied stubbornly.

"On the floor?" She gave a smug grin as you huffed and got off of the floor. You patted the dust of your clothes and tried to assess your next move while you tried even harder to ignore the hero and the fact she may have just saved your life.

"You could say thank you." The smirk was still present in Carol's voice.

"Are they dead?" You asked, avoiding the statement like the bullets you had just encountered. You walked towards the nearest attacker with Carol close behind.

"Just knocked out." As she said that, the nearest man groaned and tried to sit up. "I guess not all of them." The man startled when he heard Carol's voice and sat bolt upright as he legs kicked out to try and back himself away, it didn't work very well.

"Can we go back to our convosation before you started shooting at me?" You asked as you stood over him.

"I don't know anything." He stammered as he looked between the two of you.

"You're awful defensive for someone who doesn't have anything to hide."

"I've noticed that with a lot of people." Carol added. You didn't object to her presence this time.

"I don't, I swear! We were just told that if anyone came looking for Daexire we had to kill them." The man explained with a pleading look.

You smiled at his answer and nodded slowly, taking a step away from the two and glancing around at the other attackers, non of which moved.

"You're happy with that?" Carol questioned as her brows furrowed. Confused by your apparent contentment.

"It's actually quite relieving to hear. It means I'm on the right track. I much prefer people trying to kill me over people misleading me." You explained as you started to wander away.

You had been in that situation before, it always happened with the biggest bounties who had a lot of people defending them. The misleading happened first, and then the paranoia kicked in and everyone was told to go into full defense. It also meant you were getting closer, but with Daexire you were sure you had a way to go before you could truly celebrate any progress.

"So you know where to go next?" You cringed slightly at that. It did help, but the next place you had in mind was one you never thought you would return to. You had wanted to put it off for longer, but seeing how defensive the people in that area had been made it the logical place to go.

You didn't answer Carol, knowing what she was going to suggest. She seemed to know what your silence meant.

"You know...you kind of owe me now." She said slowly. You turned to her sharply and met her searching gaze. You hated that she was right. You also hates being in people's debt. "And don't say you had it under control because we both know you didn't." You still stayed silent but avoided her gaze this time, pretending to survey your surroundings.

"We're on the same side, you know?" She said. There was no arrogant tone to her voice this time. No superiority. She spoke as though it was genuinely something she wanted you to understand. You did.

"I have rules." You stated, looking back at her. Carol smiled hopefully, it suited her. "You follow my lead when we're talking to people." Carol instantly opened her mouth to oppose but you stopped her by speaking louder. "I know these people, you don't. I know how they work, how they think. You can fight, Danvers, I'll give you that. I know that you're a superhero and all, but what we're doing now is bounty hunting. That's my world. It'll only work if you follow my lead." You explained to her as best you could. You needed her to understand that. Carol considered your words as she searched your face for...well you weren't entirely sure what she was looking. So you took a guess.

"I know I'm getting money out of this when it's done. But it's about more than that with Daexire, I know what he's done, what he'll continue to do. He needs to be stopped, and we can only stop him if this is done right. I'm not even going to attempt to boss you around, you're far too stubborn, just trust that I know this better."

She continued to look at you carefully until, you weren't sure you even wanted to hazard a guess as to know what she was thinking. Finally, Carol nodded tightly, you knew she was still unsure. It must have been a while since someone had asked that of her, you just hoped she would understand early on.

"Great." You released a breath you didn't know you had been holding and ran a hand through your hair as you stepped back.

"Do I at least get to fly your ship?" Carol asked as a mischievous twinkle emerged in her eyes. You rolled your eyes to stop the smile that threatened to form as you walked back to your ship.

"Don't push it, Danvers."

[letters-from-eros]

Request by: @wolfkid22

A/N: This took longer than I wanted to because I loss writing motivation for a minute lmao but I really enjoyed this request, I'm eager to get to it. I really hope it does it justice! I pretty much wrote the entire USJ experience down for immersion and I really wanted to do this right since you entrusted me with writing something you relate to your OC.

Pairing: No romantic pairing, but this one-shot revolves around Aizawa and the reader in a non-romantic sense (I ain't with that teacher x student shit 🤩)

Form: One-shot

Genre: Angst

Warning: Mentions of blood, depictions of anxiety

It was strange to say that you were, at one point, excited to go to USJ with your classmates. Excited to see how your quirk would work in emergency situations, excited to make progress. Take another step into making you idol– and teacher, proud.

Thirteen was going on some long winded rant about why everyone was here and how thing's are gonna go. The moment you heard that the class of 1A was attending this place you did a short bout of research to see what you were stepping into. That being said, you knew what Thirteen was going on about and had completely zoned out because of the lack of reason to actually pay attention.

Your eyes stayed glued to the ground below you as your own thoughts overlapped with Thirteen's words. Something minute snapped you out of your thoughts and had you look up, small footsteps that turned out just to be Aizawa shifting his weight a side to side a little. He stood beside Thirteen, his tired and disinterested expression ever present. He looked like he didn't want to be here at all but to be fair he did look like that all the time.

You eyes unconsciously linger on your teacher for a moment, you could feel yourself slowly slip back into a state of unawareness and zoning out again. Right before your eyes drifted away from Aizawa you pick up on how his eyes snapped quickly towards the right, and you couldn't help but follow his gaze, shifting your head to the right as well.

In the main plaza, right in the middle of the facility there was a strange void slowly growing bigger and bigger. A hand stretches out of it and you quickly came to the understanding that the "strange void" was some sort of portal.

After the hand, a masked face shows itself, contrasting the dark gateway behind it. The only part of- what you assumed was a man's- face that could be seen against the hand-shaped mask was one of his eyes. Red and beady, seemingly looking directly at you. Veins pricked out of the corners. You knew this couldn't be apart of the facility, with that knowledge came an overwhelming sense of panic.

More people started appearing out of the black hole-like gateway and your body moved on its on, taking a small step backwards and away from the main plaza where the intruders were emerging. Just.. More and more and more people came pouring out of the portal, each one with their own threatening appearance and aura surrounding them. You were too awe-struck at the group to break your eyes away, or pick up on the words of chatter that started to drift around.

'Shit, I should be listening,' You thought, this should be treated as an emergency. Hell, this is an emergency if you weren't overreacting.

"What's going on Aizawa-Sensei?! Thirteen?" Mina was the first to speak out, all the mutters and whispers went silent. "Is this apart of the rescue training?"

"This isn't apart of the rescue training. These must be villains," Your teacher only confirmed your fears, but there was no form of panic in his voice, rather, there was a sense of urgency. "Thirteen, get the kids to the exit."

You watched as Aizawa brought his goggles that hung around his neck to his face and Thirteen started to turn and usher us to the exit. It wasn't far, but couldn't be described as close, either. Bakugo barked about how we should be with Aizawa who began to fight the intruders. The villains were out of our league, as much as we wished we could be helping, we would end up being tossed around like rag dolls, including the likes of Bakugo himself (although you had to admit he'd probably put up and damn good fight)

You glanced back at the main plaza, watching how Aizawa easily took out about 5 villains in a matter of seconds. Maybe there was no need to worry after all, you thought– hoped, rather.

Hope, that's the feeling that was swelling up within you as the doors that lead to the exit/entrance neared but that feeling was quickly shut down.

You almost walked straight into the black and purple nothingness that seemed to be the portal that the villains came out of, you quickly halt and look around only to see that everyone was fully surrounded, including thirteen.

"Oh god..." A panicked whisper is all the could escape your lips as a voice started talking. Apparently the void-portal-thing was actually a... Person? Why do quirks have to be so complicated sometimes...

"We are the League Of Villains," The portal-man started, his deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. "If you're wondering why we're here, our goal is to kill All Might-"

It didn't seem as though he was done talking but as soon as the voice said their goal was to kill the #1 hero Bakugo and Kirishima were quite quick to attack, but how do you attack someone that barely has (or is showing) and physical form.

They both fall into the portal and and the parts of it that surrounded your class quickly closed in around all of you.

For a split second, it was dark. All you could feel was the way your hero suit hugged your body.

For a split second, you thought you died.

That is, until your body collided with the unforgiving ground as grass pricked the back of your neck. You sat back up and tried to ignore the lightheaded feeling that took over your body after have such a hard impact with the ground.

"Anyone?!" You called out, loud enough so those in your vicinity could hear you but not too loud to attract any unwanted attention. Chills scattered across the entirety of your body as there wasn't a response.. You were completely alone..

It didn't take that much looking to figure out where you were, you ended up landing in the forest area that surrounded most sides of the main plaza, where your teacher was still fighting. The low-level villains seemed to never stop bombarding Aizawa, but Aizawa didn't waver no matter how many hits he had to take. You wonder how much fighting and hero experience it required for him to doing what he was so... Effortlessly.

You sat there starstruck for god knows how long, hidden behind a forest of trees no one ever bothered to look in the direction of. From what you managed to see out of your peripheral, Tenya was the only student who has made an escape out of this facility, undoubtedly to go get help, though.

More of your classmates started to slowly pool into the forest area you've been residing in, panic whispers filled your ears.

"It's only a matter of time Tenya comes back with pro-heroes... Right?"

"Relax, Bakugo!! Aizawa can handle it!"

"Let me GO, Shitty-Hair! Before I blast you to bits!"

You glance at Katsuki for a moment to see him struggling in the arms of Kirishima, holding him back from leading a charge into the plaza. Everyone knew if one person dared going to where the villains were, the majority of the class would follow along with. It wouldn't be good..

"I-I don't want to mess him up.." Midoriya's voiced seemingly strained to get the sentence out, fear took over his tone. He said what you've been thinking for the entirety of watching Aizawa fight.

That was up until the point of the... Thing that sprouted from the portal appeared.

As soon as its presence emerged your heart started to pick up its pace. Jet black skin and muscles seemingly bigger than the #1 hero's, the monster towered over your teacher's figure. Unconsciously, you slowly took a few steps forward..

Who you've dubbed as who seemed to be the ringleader of this operation called the thing a Nomu.. A strange name for such a crude monster.

You wipe the moisture that accumulated in the palm of your hands due to anxiety as you watched the Nomu prepare to take on Aizawa. Something in the back of your mind tells you this is about to go horribly wrong, yet you refuse to listen to it.

Maybe you should've, watching as Aizawa's head gets smashed into the solid ground by the Nomu. As everyone else couldm't bring themself to move a muscle, a surge of adrenaline rushed into your veins as though it was a drug.

You refused to lose your teacher. Your inspiration, your hope.

The Nomu held Aizawa's face up and he slowly drooped his eyes open, he was going to lose consciousness any second as blood started to drain from the side of his head.

You held your hands up, it was time to use your quirk. The few seconds it took to create a dense sphere of air you took steps large steps further until you were dangerously close to where everything was going on. No one reacted to you fast enough to stop you from hurling the sphere at the beast. Although it was air, what you threw was more similar to a boulder than a nice breeze of wind. The Nomu went flying backwards with Aizawa released from his grasp.

Thank everything good in the world that as you started to make your way towards Aizawa's limp body, the doors came crashing open, All Might, and at least 5 other A-List pro-heroes appear in the lobby.

Although you just (temporarily) took down the Nomu, all attention was quickly shifted to the heroes long enough to scoop Aizawa into your arms and make towards the exit. One of his long arms was wrapped around your neck and your left arm encircled his waist with a tight grip.

Up close, Aizawa looked a hell of a lot more roughed up and pummeled than he did before, even getting rid of the injury he just got from the Nomu. Your stomach does backflips as you felt some of Aizawa's blood drip onto your cheek.

"What were you thinking?!" The man reprimanded, his voice lacked urgency since he was 5 minutes from passing out, by it was scolding nonetheless.

You take a few labored breaths before answering him, each word that left your mouth was stressed and genuine, I can't lose you, Aizawa-Sensei, you're the whole damn reason I came to this school!" Your tone sounded as though you were even offended that he dared asked you what were you thinking. "I can't have my inspiration to be a hero die right before my eyes when I could've stopped it!"

His body seemed much more tense that it did before in your arms, and he had no response to the words that left your mouth. He's gotten used to the lazy, tired, cat-obsessed, vigilante stigma far too much. To imagine that he's someone's inspiration to be a hero? Its mindboggling.. Although that, the fogginess and shrouded his mind was being no help to solve to problem of formulating a response.

"Aizawa-" You began before getting swiftly cut off. You were at the doors of the exit and Aizawa's body was swiftly taken from you by some paramedic.

Cop and ambulance sirens is all you can hear as you take your first steps outside. Your knees almost buckle under your own weight as the absence of the adrenaline rush you had gotten finally hits you.

Two hands steady hands of another paramedic keep you on your feet and lead you to an open ambulance where they got you to take a seat.

"Are you okay?" Concern laced their voice, but they still managed to talk slowly and clearly.

"Oh, um, yeah, this isn't my own blood," You reference to the small amount of blood that managed to get on your cheek from Aizawa before breaking eye contact, looking at the ambulance that was parked beside the one you were sitting in. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Who? Eraser? Yeah! I saw his vitals and they're looking as strong as they could be for someone in his condition. You're a real hero for saving him, kid."

Before the words of praise even resonated in you, you took a sigh of relief knowing that your teacher was going to be safe. "Thank you."

You watched as the medic scurried off elsewhere in search of anyone else who could be in need of serious medical attention as you began thinking about the events that just took place.. You just survived your first encounter with villains, and managed to save someone so important to you while doing so..

'I did good' you thought, a tired smiling playing on your lips.. You truly felt like the best hero you could be and worthy of any praise Aizawa could give.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 1: Please Don’t Go, Girl •

- 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗘 𝟭𝟵𝟴𝟵 -

     The final bell at Derry High School rang, doors flung open and a mix of disorderly students had spilled out into the halls like sheep. Books were being hurled into the trash, lockers emptied out, papers were strewn all over - summer had officially commenced. Swept up among the madness is Bill Denbrough, Richie Tozier, Stan Uris, and Eddie Kaspbrak.

     Eddie was abnormally small for his age, his inhaler holstered in his medicine-filled fanny pack to his left, Stan. A tall boy with curly blonde hair and wore a kippah, next to him was Bill, a young gangly boy with a stutter. And Richie Tozier, who wore glasses and was notorious for being a trash mouth. He was Eddie's best friend.

     In that same moment, one floor down, Y/n L/n flooded into the hallway with her classmates, exhaling in relief. She scanned the hallways and glazed over the many figures of the crowd hoping to catch sight of a familiar head of fiery red hair that belonged to her best friend. Beverly had excused herself near the end of class for a smoke in the girl’s bathroom, naturally, that was where she was headed to find her friend.

     Y/n weaved her way through the hallway stuffed with people, walking on her toes hoping to get a better look above the mass of heads. She passed through the stairway, cringing at the sudden influx in volume caused by the echo from the rowdy students in the stairway. That's when she spotted Greta Bowie.

     Y/n cursed under her breath as she saw the 13-year-old bully heading for the top of the stairs. She got a bad feeling in her stomach and she immediately knew where Greta was headed.

     Beverly and Y/n were the bully's favorite victims, particularly Bev. And Y/n had an inkling Greta was looking for her Beverly too.

     Y/n sprinted up the steps after her, the swarm of students blocking her way. Up ahead, she saw Greta reach the landing of the second floor and she shoved herself past one of Richie Tozier's friends, who turned to glare at her.

     At that moment, two rambunctious boys who were racing down the stairs, and much too absorbed in their interaction hadn't seemed to realize they were obstructing her path. And blocking Greta out in the process.

     She huffed. "Do you mind- Hey!"

     Rather than stop, the two boys blew past her on either side, their shoulders crashing into hers as they sneered. Her heart leaped into her throat as she felt herself lose balance. She lost her footing and was sent tumbling backward down a few stairs and onto the landing, a few students slowing her fall. Luckily, she hadn't made it far up the stairs. Had she, and Y/n would have left the school in a wheelchair, or worse.

     "Fuck!"

     Laughter erupted around her and she lay there, the wind knocked out of her. The two boys never even acknowledged the damage they had caused and they were well on their way to the exit of the school. Figures.

     "Hey, are y-y-you, o-okay?" Y/n peered up and saw four boys hurrying down the steps towards her.

     One of the boys, Richie Tozier, she recognized. At Derry High School, it was almost impossible not to know about the trash mouth, but she also had a handful of classes with him. They had even been partnered up once at the beginning of the year.

     Y/n had a hard time figuring out what he actually sounded like that day, he kept switching between so many different accents.

     "I'm fine," She sat up abruptly, wincing and hissed in pain, clutching her elbow.

     "You sure?" Asked the curly-haired boy, who was peeking his slightly over his friends. "That was some fall you took."

     "You know toots, when people come barreling towards me, I usually get out of the way, but you know, that's just me." Said Richie, readjusting his glasses.

     Y/n rolled her eyes, huffing. "Ever learn how to shut up, Tozier?"

     "Nah, still trying to crack that one."

     Eddie, who had been unusually quiet, hesitantly brought his hand out to her to help her up. She took it gratefully, forcing a smile, still wincing from her fall. And Y/n muttered a thanks.

     The poor hypochondriac boy realized what he had done and quickly reached into his fanny pack, grabbing his pocket-sized hand sanitizer. He squeezed a small amount into his palm and quickly rubbed it into his hands frantically, though a small blush resided on his cheeks.

     Y/n would have taken slight offense to the kid's actions but she was far too distracted by the fact that Greta had gotten away.

     She was probably terrorizing Beverly right now, Y/n thought.

     "Are you sure you're okay? That looked like a really bad fall." Stan asked.

  ��  Y/n forced another smile as she rotated her ankle wincing. "Yeah, I'm fine thanks. Look I rea-"

     Eddie, whose voice finally caught up with his brain, began speaking rapidly, cutting her off unintentionally.

     "You should take extra precaution with your ankle for a while. Did you know over one million stair related injuries occur every year, and people who have them, statistically speaking are more likely to experience another incident due to injury from the first fall?"

     Y/n blinked a few times, still trying to catch up with his words. Richie and Stan smirked at one another and Bill looked between his friend and the baffled girl before him. Bill remembered how it was hearing Eddie speak for the first time. It took him a couple of weeks before he could hold a conversation with him without asking him to repeat himself.

     "Uh, yeah, I think I heard that somewhere, thanks. I'll keep an eye on it. Uh, listen, thanks for the concern, and the help, but I really gotta go," Y/n said quickly, not as fast, but close to, Eddie's speed.

     The unexpected response triggered a few raised eyebrows among the three boys, and a small smile formed on Eddie's face.

     Y/n nodded and gestured to the top of the stairs behind them.

     "Excuse me," She said, pushing her way through between Eddie and Stan.

     Eddie and the rest of the boys turned and watched as she squeezed through the flood of students like a fish swimming upstream. Eventually, they saw her [b/t] figure disappear into the crowd at the top of the stairs.

     Without his eyes leaving the spot through which she disappeared, Eddie spoke up.

     "Hey, Richie, who was that?"

     Richie looked between his best friend and the stairs.

     "Y/n L/n. Why? You want to get in her pants?" He chuckled.

     Eddie's face scrunched up and he shook his head feverishly, though it didn't stop Richie from noticing the pinkish hue creeping up on Eddie's cheeks and Richie suddenly regretted his joke.

     "Aw, nothing to be ashamed of Eds. We're happy you're finally going after a woman that's not your mother!" Richie said, plastering on a smirk.

     Eddie then launched into a lecture about the nickname and the four boys continued downstairs.

     Meanwhile, at just past the top of the stairs Y/n approached the bathroom just as Greta and her posse were leaving. They were snickering and Greta met Y/n's eye and burst into laughter, her friends following suit.

     "Oh, crap." Y/n took off into the bathroom.

     "Beverly?"

     Y/n didn't need to hear a response to figure out where her friend was. She winced when she saw the water pooling out from the far right stall. Mixed into it were various pieces of garbage that were floating amongst it.

     "Beverly? It's me, come on open up," Y/n knocked softly on the stall, and she took a step back when it swung open.

     There Beverly stood, her legs and the end of her dress soaked and dripping. Beverly looked at her best friend, a deadpan look on her face. She held her drenched backpack out away from herself, it swung slightly where the handle was hooked around her finger. There were wet napkins and paper towels that still clung to her backpack.

     "Shit, I'm sorry. I tried going after her, but I... guess I fell short." Y/n chuckled weakly at her own joke, but quickly shook her head. "Never mind. Here, let's get you dried off."

×××

     "Best feeling in the world,"

     Stan emptied the contents of his backpack into the trashcan in the courtyard, his friends did the same.

     Richie turned to his friend, putting his backpack back on.

     "Yeah? Try tickling your pickle for the first time."

     Eddie, who was used to ignoring the cheeky quips from Richie, turned to the others.

     "Hey, what do you guys want to do tomorrow?"

     Richie looked to Eddie, answering as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

     "I start my training."

     "Wait, what training?"

     "Street Fighter."

     "Is that how you wanna spend your summer? Inside of an arcade?"

     Without missing a beat, Richie replied and shrugged.

     "Beats spending it inside your mother," he turned to Stan, waiting for a high five.

     Without a thought, Stan forced Richie's arm down, and the conversation continued.

     "What if we go to the quarry?" He asked.

     Bill leaned slightly on the trashcans as he replied.

     "Guys, we have the b-b-ba-barrens,"

     An awkward silence fell over them and Stan nodded in understanding. "Right."

     At that moment, Eddie caught sight of a woman standing on the sidewalk, her eyes puffy from crying. They were accompanied by bags under them, and she waited with the police. She scanned the entryway, hoping to find a familiar face.

     Eddie nodded. "Betty Ribosome's mom,"

     The boys all turned to follow his eye.

     "Is she really expecting to see her come out of that school?" Stan asked sadly.

     "I don't know," Eddie muttered. "As if Betty Ripsome's been hiding in Home Ec. for the last few weeks."

     "You think they'll actually find her?"

     Richie answered immediately, with a slight scoff.

     "Sure. In a ditch. All decomposed, covered in worms and maggots, smelling like Eddie's mom's underwear."

     Eddie cringed and began sputtering. "Shut up! That's fricking disgusting."

     "S-she’s not dead." Bill urged. "S-sh-she's just m-missing."

     Richie adjusted his glasses nervously, and he felt a twinge of guilt knowing he hit a sore subject with his friend. Bill was still insistent that his own younger brother was still missing. After his little brother's disappearance months ago, still hoping he was out there somewhere.

     "Sorry, Bill. She's missing."

     Another silence fell over the four friends. They began walking away towards their bikes.

     "You know, the Barrens aren't that bad," Richie began. "Who doesn't love splashing around in shitty water?"

     Richie was stopped in his tracks, a hand had reached out and grabbed his backpack, and before he knew it he was thrown into Stan and the two boys fell in the grass.

     Patrick Hockstetter kneeled over Stan. He wore a wicked grin and was waving his kippah in his face. "Nice frisbee, flamer."

     Stan reached desperately for it, but Patrick kept it well out of his reach. "Give it back!"

     He rose to his feet and tossed the kippah straight into an open window of a passing school bus. "Fucking losers!"

     Eddie was too distracted to notice Belch Huggins creep up behind him. He burped into his face, causing him to gag profusely and Belch gave him a shove.

     Henry Bowers, the leader of the little gang and the one who knocked over Stan and Richie, stormed passed the boys. Bill went red in the face with anger and he shouted after them.

     "Y-y-you, s-s-s-suck, Bowers!"

"Shut up, Bill!" Richie warned.

     But it was too late, Henry and his friends stopped in their tracks, turning around to face the stuttering boy.

     "You suh-suh-suh-say something, buh-buh-buh-Billy?" He asked, feigning a stutter.

     He stalked towards him, towering over him menacingly.

     "You got a free ride this year 'cause of your little brother. Ride's over, Denbrough."

     Henry caught the noise of indistinct radio chatter and he looked past Bill, at his father, the chief of police. The scruffy man took off his glasses and glared at his son. Henry tried to shake it off but he backed up slightly.

     "This summer's gonna be a hurt train, for you and your faggot friends."

     Henry licked his palm and wiped it across Bill's face. Patrick snickered and three bullies retreated the car, where their other friend Victor Criss was waiting.

     Stan and Richie joined Bill and Eddie's side, glaring after the Bowers Gang.

     "I wish he'd go missing," Richie muttered.

     Eddie nodded. "He's probably the one doing it."

×××

     Ben Hanscom grabs the handles of his bike with one hand and carefully moves it out of the rack. He was balancing a diorama of the Derry Standpipe in his other hand. He looked around the courtyard briefly, seeing the noiseless chatter of students around him as his music blasts in his ears. Completely unaware he and his bike were blocking the stairs.

     A now somewhat dry Beverly Marsh stood on the stairs waiting to pass. Y/n, who had helped her dry off in the bathroom, had promptly realized she never had the chance to clean out her locker. The duo decided to meet each other at their shared apartment complex. To kick off the summer break, Beverly was going to stay at Y/n's apartment for the night, and get a much-deserved break from her father.

     Beverly prickled at the small obstacle. She was impatient from the day's events and to get home and grab a change of clothes before her father got home from work. Eager to disappear to Y/n's next door. But the boy blocking the stairs didn't seem to know he was even doing it.

      "You gonna let me go by?" Beverly asked, bringing him out of his stupor. "Or is there a secret password or something?"

     Ben turned suddenly, and when he saw who it was before him, his stomach did flips and his heart was aflutter. He harbored a crush for the girl, ever since he first laid eyes on her in class. She never failed to make him blush, just with a simple look.

     "Oh," he turned his head down to the ground quickly to hide his scarlet face. "Um, sorry,"

     "Sorry's not," She trailed off when the diorama he had been holding fell to the ground, and he scrambled to pick it up. "password."

     Just as he had picked up his diorama, his bike fell to the ground. She felt a wave of guilt for being snarky, he was clearly sorry and at this point she knew, he had enough on his plate. Someone they both had to worry about. Henry Bowers.

     "Henry and his goons are over by the west entrance, so you should be fine," she eased, and Ben looked at her taken aback.

     "Oh, I wasn't--"

     "Everyone knows he's looking for you," she nodded.

     Ben sighed and shied away. She smiled and took a few steps forward, grabbing the headphones off his head.

     "What you listening to?"

     Ben was in shock, but he stood still waiting for the inevitable teasing she would bring. But instead she smiled brightly, making his heart pound faster and he could feel his face grow hotter.

     "New Kids on The Block," She took the headphones back off.

     "I don't even like them. I was just--"

     "Wait. You're the new kid, right? Now I get it."

     His heart sunk.

     "There's nothing to get."

     "I'm just messing with you," she assured.

     She placed the headphones on top of his head, and he promptly grabbed them, wrapping them around his head as best he could with one hand.

     "I'm Beverly Marsh"

     "Yeah. I know that 'cause we're in the same class. Social Studies. And you were..." he trailed off, and shook his head slightly. "I'm Ben. But pretty much everybody just calls me..."

     "The new kid," Beverly finished, nodded in understanding. "Well, Ben, there are worse things to be called. Let me sign this."

     She stepped forward, grabbing the yearbook she had spotted sticking out of his backpack. Bev eagerly opened it up to the front and her face fell seeing nothing but blank pages save for the word typed in black ink, 'Autographs'. Grabbing the pen from her belt, she bit the cap and held it between her teeth as she signed her name, unknowingly being watched in admiration by Ben. His eyes just poking up from the book.

     She recapped the pen and handed the yearbook back to Ben. "Stay cool, Ben from sosh class."

     "Uh, yeah," He turned to watch her leave, smiling brightly after her. "You too, Beverly."

     As he watched her walk away, she called without turning her head, acknowledging his response. "Hang tough, new kid on the block."

     Ben smirked at her clever reference to the boy bands' song, and a big stupid grin formed on his face. He chuckled, shaking his head softly, not believing his luck and her kindness.

     He called back out to her, moments too late. "Please Don't Go, Girl. That's the name of another New Kids on the Block song,"

     His words trailed off, knowing he had been too late. Hopefully, she hadn't heard it, he thought. And it seemed she hadn't. He shook his head, ashamed but relieved she hadn't heard it. Nevertheless, he had a new firm hand on his bike and diorama, determined not to drop them again and he walked his bike to the entrance, his headphones trailing behind him and his heart still aflutter.

     Who cares that no one else signed my yearbook, he thought. When the only person he actually wanted to, did.

+++

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